


Love and Hate

by owlways_and_forever



Series: The Mischief They Create [16]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Cheating, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Gen, Modern Royalty, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26443447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlways_and_forever/pseuds/owlways_and_forever
Summary: After finding out that her husband is having an affair, Mary retreats to a place she hasn't been in a long time. But she soon finds that she's not alone there.
Relationships: Antonin Dolohov/Mary Macdonald, Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon, Sirius Black/Mary Macdonald
Series: The Mischief They Create [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888561
Kudos: 1





	Love and Hate

_Some mistakes get made_ _  
__That’s alright, that’s okay_ _  
__You can think that you’re in love_   
When you’re really just in pain

Mary looked around the dreary old house, noting the way the light from the sun outside didn’t manage to filter through the heavy brocade curtains. She supposed it had always been dim inside, but in the early days of her marriage, when they lived here, it hadn’t seemed to matter quite so much. They had been quite content, back then, to stay shuttered up in their bedroom, and the darkness had seemed rather cozy and intoxicating. Of course, they had hardly used Grimmauld Place since the coronation and moving into the palace. She picked up an old photograph, running her finger through the dust that coated it. Underneath was a smiling image of herself, blissfully happy, her arms wrapped tightly around Sirius’ waist. He was laughing at something, one hand mussing his curls to disarray while the other sat comfortably on her shoulder. Mary couldn’t believe how happy they looked. Why did it seem like this photograph was of another girl in another lifetime?

They had married for love, all those years ago. Against the advice of her family, she had married Sirius because her heart had sung out for him, and she believed that his had done likewise. They’d been happy for a while too, or at least she thought they had. But then there had been the children, and her father’s death, and now life was so very different from what it had been before. Mary tried to pinpoint when it had all changed, when they had stopped being happy, but she wasn’t sure she could. Truthfully, she suspected that the moment was quite different for herself and for Sirius. _She_ had been quite content until the bombshell revelation that had upended her world the week before. But it seemed that Sirius had been struggling in their marriage for much longer than she.

. - . - .

_“Where’s my husband?” the Queen asked her private secretary, arching an eyebrow imperiously. She was not this commanding person by nature, and often found that the best way to get through it was to pretend as if she were someone more imposing._

_Remus shuffled uncomfortably and looked very much as if he would rather sink into the carpet than answer her question._

_“Remus?” she prompted._

_“I believe he’s out riding, ma’am,” he answered at last, although his expression was most peculiar as he spoke._

_“No he’s not,” she refuted, offering Remus a quizzical look. She didn’t understand why the man would lie to her - they had always got on so well. “I was out riding myself not twenty minutes ago. All the other horses were in the stable.”_

_“Perhaps you just missed him?”_

_“Remus, really, what is going on?” Queen Mary huffed, impatient and confused by her private secretary’s actions. ‘This is absurd. I need… I need to speak with my husband, so would you kindly tell me where he is?”_

_“Riding is the term with which I am most comfortable, Your Majesty,” Remus answered, closing his eyes as though the words he were about to say caused him physical pain. “I don’t believe I specified that he was riding horses though, ma’am.”_

_“Then what on earth is he riding?” she said, not at all following._

_“Not a what, ma’am,” he admitted, his eyes fixed on the carpet._

_“Oh,” the Queen said, the single syllable all she was able to manage as reality crashed down around her ears._

. - . - .

Mary wasn’t entirely sure that she could honestly say she was surprised by it. Sirius had always been popular, and in a way it had been one of the things that had drawn her to him. She had loved his confidence, his bravado. It thrilled her, and made her feel more daring. He was so comfortable diving into new situations - an adventurer at heart - and he pulled her along with him. 

But she had never really thought he would hurt her. Never thought that he would let go of her hand and keep adventuring without her - or worse still, with someone else. Mary had so many questions now. Did he love her, this other woman? How long had it been going on? Did everyone know? She felt foolish and idiotic for not seeing this affair unfolding before her very nose.

Shaking her head, Mary turned to leave. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find in the house after all. Further proof of her husband’s infidelity? Unlikely. As she set the photograph back in it’s spot on the corner cabinet, she heard the front door open.

“Gideon?” she called out softly, stepping out into the hallway. Normally, her bodyguard would be content to wait outside at a location like this, unless there were some threat of imminent danger from which he needed to remove her. Her blood ran cold for a moment as she considered what it might mean.

But it was not Gideon who stood by the door. Looking over his shoulder in surprise was a stranger, and rather a handsome one at that.

“Your Majesty,” he addressed her, recovering quickly enough. “Forgive me, I had no idea you were here.”

“Clearly,” she replied, trying to decide whether to be frightened, curious, or amused. “Who exactly are you, may I ask?”

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” the stranger answered, looking quite abashed, and Mary decided then that he was no danger to her. “Antonin Dolohov, I’m your neighbor. I’ve been looking after plants around the house and in the back garden. Well, what there is of a garden. These townhomes really just have more of a patio.”

“That’s very kind of you,” she said, smiling. “And Mary is fine, or ma’am if you really must. I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you. Did you live here before the coronation?”

“No, Your - no, ma’am,” Mr. Dolohov replied. “I just moved here about a year and a half ago. From Manchester.”

“And you’ve been looking after my plants the whole time?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he confirmed.

“That’s very kind of you,” Mary said, smiling again. “Would you like a cup of tea, Mr. Dolohov?”

“I would love one,” he agreed. “And Antonin will do, ma’am, if you don’t mind.”

“Well if I’m to call you Antonin, you should certainly call me Mary,” she teased, leading the way to the dingy kitchen.

“If you like.”

Mary made the tea in a comfortable silence as Antonin examined the photographs that hung on her wall. Scenes from her travels with Sirius mostly, though there were a few that predated her. It was a very domestic scene, the likes of which she did not often see at the palace. She tried to discreetly sneak a few glances at her companion, noting the way the muscles in his shoulders tensed as he stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

“May I ask what brought you back to Grimmauld Place?” Antonin asked, turning away from the photographs. “I don’t remember you stopping in once since I’ve lived next door.”

“I’m not really sure why,” Mary admitted, sitting down at the heavy wooden table and placing two cups of tea in front of them. “I suppose I thought I might find something in the way of answers or explanation here. It’s been rather a trying few days.”

“He’s having an affair, isn’t he?” Antonin asked, though his knowing tone suggested it was more of a statement than a question. “Your husband, that is.”

“I didn’t say that,” she said, shocked by his insight.

“You said it with your eyes,” he replied, his gaze locking on her with an intensity that made her want to squirm.

Mary was quiet for a minute, trying to decide what to say. This man was a complete stranger, and yet she felt an odd attraction to him. He seemed trustworthy and something about him just made her want to tell him all her secrets and let her emotions flow freely.

“Yes, he is,” she admitted, looking down at the table in embarrassment. Somehow, she felt as though she were admitting a failure of her own, rather than an offense of Sirius’. “I don’t know the particulars - who, how long. I don’t even know if it’s common knowledge. Evidently my private secretary knew, but then again it is his job to manage the calendar, so perhaps it isn’t entirely surprising that he would be in the loop.”

“And how are you faring, Mary?” Antonin asked, his warm, gentle gaze still searching her expression for any sign of her feelings.

“Truthfully?” she said, and he nodded his encouragement. “Half the time I pretend that I’m fine. I assume that the phrase ‘fake it til you make it’ exists for a reason.”

“And the other half the time?”

“I don’t even bother,” Mary said, sadness colouring her voice.

“That’s terrible,” he replied and she hummed in agreement.

“Have you ever experienced a partner being unfaithful?” she asked, aware that the question was likely impertinent and far too personal to ask a near perfect stranger, and yet she didn’t let that stop her. However formal they were being with each other, she was still the Queen, and people never told her to butt out of their business, even if they wished it.

“Once,” he said, his eyes glazing over as he remembered that time in his life. “It was awful, but at least I didn’t have the whole country watching my relationship fall apart.”

“You know, I really thought Sirius would be the right man for the job,” Mary mused, her eyes drifting to the photographs on the wall. “It’s not easy being married to a queen, but I thought he would be up to the task. Never in my wildest dreams did I think he would fall so abysmally short of the mark. But if truth be told, I think my marriage broke the day I put on the crown. And now I’m starting to think that maybe the weight of the crown is just so great that it would crack even the best of marriages, and send imperfect ones crumbling into dust.”

“The right man would be able to take it,” Antonin said, his words sounding something like a pledge. “A good man, a strong man, can withstand any pressure in the world in order to stand by the side of the woman he loves.”

“That’s quite a romantic view of the world,” she replied, privately wondering how someone who had been through the same kind of betrayal as she had could possibly have such a naive and idealistic belief.

“You think I’m foolish,” he stated, smiling gently in amusement.

“In this case, I think foolishness is not the worst trait to have,” she said peaceably. “Although it might leave you rather more apt to heartbreak.”

“I think I would rather be heartbroken a hundred times than close myself off.”

“Certainly something to ponder,” Mary answered, his words striking accord. “Now I think I ought to leave you to your work. I’ve taken up too much of your time.”

“It seems odd to invite you to your own house,” Antonin replied, standing up as she did, “but if you would ever like to have tea again - or perhaps even a full meal - I would be happy to oblige you any time you like. Just send word to number 13.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind, Antonin,” she said.

On her way out of the kitchen, Mary turned back once more for a final look at Antonin. He was standing by the kitchen table, looking perfectly at home in her husband’s house. Something about him made her heart flutter and squeeze, and the feeling frightened her a little bit. She had only ever felt it once before - with Sirius - and the idea that history could be repeating was positively terrifying. And yet, so enticing. She was tempted to run back to him, to wrap her arms around his neck and feel the weight of him against her.

“I very much hope we will meet again, Mary,” he said, his voice low and quiet. But she didn’t miss the words, or the significant look that he gave her with them. A look that quite plainly seemed to say that her rather confusing feelings were entirely mutual.

o . o . o . o . o

Lunches at Grimmauld Place became a semi-weekly occurrence. Nearly every Thursday, Mary made her way to number 12, entering discreetly through the back gate. Whenever he was able, Antonin would join her, and the two would sit down to a simple lunch in the small kitchen. When they began, they would take turns bringing lunch with them. Mary often brought leftovers of whatever fancy meal the palace chef had made the night before (he always cooked far too much), while Antonin picked up sandwiches from the best deli in London. He preferred anything on Jewish rye, but mostly roast beef, while Mary’s favourite was a classic caprese panini on focaccia. After a while, they began to stock the little kitchen, and occasionally added cooking lunch themselves to the rotation.

They talked about everything - Antonin’s childhood in the Czech Republic, Mary’s engagements and charity, his relationship with his parents, her relationship with Sirius, even Princess Alexandra’s apprehension about starting school. The two strangers became fast friends, and though they both denied it adamantly, there was something else beginning to bloom in these two individuals who were both so alone and neglected.

Nearly three months after their first meeting, as October was settling its autumnal grip into every leaf and breathing a cool crispness into the air, Antonin surprised Mary with a small gift during their weekly lunch. The rose coloured box stood out in sharp contrast against the deep brown mahogany of the table. Mary looked at it with surprise and some apprehension. Why on earth was he giving her a gift?

“It’s not actually for you,” Antonin said, as if reading her thoughts. “It’s for Alexandra.”

“May I see what it is?” Mary asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

“Of course.”

Mary gently lifted the lid off the box, gasping as she saw what was inside. A small round box with ornate blue and gold scrollwork across the pale porcelain sat inside, a positively stunning work of craftsmanship.

“It’s a music box,” Antonin explained unnecessarily. “I had it made specially to play a Czech lullaby. I thought the Princess could use something soothing and calming, a gift from a friend.”

Mary felt gratitude flood her heart, so touched was she by the little gesture. Why should he take such a special interest in her daughter, a child he had never met? But it was a show of the depth of his feelings for her, that he would embrace her daughter with affection and without question. Mary felt herself returning those feelings, discovering for the first time what she had been denying for weeks - just how attached she had become to Antonin.

Without thinking, she leaned forward and kissed him. His lips were impossibly soft against hers, and he immediately gave way beneath her, embracing her as if he had only been waiting for a sign that he might do so. Everything about the kiss felt perfect and right, even though a voice in the back of their minds told them that it wasn’t that easy. Mary was still married, with a child, and moreover she was still the Queen and that made things untenably complicated. Pulling away, these thoughts all flooded back to Mary, reminding her of her station and situation.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her fingertips ghosting over her lips as she uttered the words, as if she were trying to seal the feeling of the kiss onto her skin. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just -”

Antonin cut off her words for another kiss, less innocent this time as his fingers wound their way into her long hair. Mary wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting herself onto her tiptoes and pressing her torso against his. She could feel the heat building between them, and though she longed to give in to it, she pushed away, turning her back to him so she could try to breathe normally.

“Antonin, we can’t,” she said, practically choking on the words that she wished she didn’t have to say.

“Why not?” he challenged, taking a step forward and tentatively placing his hand on her elbow to turn her to face him. “Sirius does? He’s your husband in name only, essentially just for show, so why shouldn’t you find love somewhere else?”

“Is that what this is - love?”

“Isn’t it?” His hazel eyes found her blue ones, locking on. Mary could see the sincerity that was there, all his feelings laid bare in that one glance.

“I…”

“Mary, we can do this,” Antonin assured her. “Nobody would ever have to know. We’re entirely alone during these lunches, not even your guards would know. Just keep coming here every Thursday and be with me.”

“It can’t be that easy,” Mary protested, a war raging between her mind and her heart.

“Why not?”

“Because at some point you’ll want more than just lunches on Thursdays!” she exclaimed. “And so will I. And we can’t have it. There’s no way for us to have a life together, Antonin, so what would be the point of an affair? We would only get hurt in the end.”

“I would get hurt a thousand times over for you,” his whispered, pulling her close again, and his words melted every last bit of Mary’s resolve.

She reached up to kiss him again, slow and steady and trying to convey a certainty in her decision that she didn’t feel. But regardless, there was no going back now.

o . o . o . o . o

“Remind me why you can’t leave him again?” Antonin asked, peppering kisses along Mary’s shoulder. 

She was lounging languidly across his lap as music played on the record players, stomach full after a sizeable lunch.

“Because as Queen, I am also the head of the Church, and the Church does not recognize divorce,” Mary recited. “It would create a constitutional crisis if the Church could no longer recognize its leader, don’t you think?”

“I suppose it would,” he sighed heavily. “Can’t have another Henry VIII now can we?”

“That is _exactly_ what we cannot have.”

She gave him a very serious and significant look that only made him dissolve into laughter. He found her positively adorable when she was anxious about a constitutional crisis.

“Do you wish that you could?” he asked, running his fingers through her hair. She didn’t have any engagements, so it was loose for once.

“Leave Sirius? Every day.” She paused, worrying her lip for a minute. “I don’t want to be a cliche. The royal couple who hates each other and only puts up with each other in public. My parents and grandparents both had such happy marriages, and I always wanted to have that too. I just… I don’t want to be miserable.”

“You sound like you’re thinking of giving him another chance?” Antonin said, a hint of anxiety colouring his voice.

Mary was quiet for a long time, trying to decide how best to answer his question.

. - . - .

_“Sweetheart, can I speak with you for a moment?”_

_Mary turned around to find the Queen Mother standing in the doorway to her office. She was dressed up, so Mary assumed she must have been out on an engagement that morning._

_“Of course, Mummy, what can I do for you?”_

_She stood and crossed the room to the two armchairs on the other side, and her mother followed her._

_“How are things with Sirius?” the Queen Mother asked as Mary quickly rang for tea._

_“Oh, um,” Mary stalled, surprised by the question. “They’ve been better, I suppose. We’ve been a little distant lately.”_

_“Are you concerned that he’s with someone else?”_

_“I’m not concerned, Mummy, I know he is,” she admitted, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. It was embarrassing that her husband was involved with someone else, it made her feel like a failure._

_“That’s not good,” her mother mused, tutting quietly._

_Mary snorted, earning her a glare from her mother._

_“Sweetheart, there are numerous problems with this situation, not least of all the optics of it,” the Queen Mother continued. “But more importantly, the issue of heirs.”_

_Mary opened her mouth to reply, but her mother steamrolled past her. In some ways, it would never matter that she was Queen. She would always be her mother’s daughter._

_“You and Sirius have only produced one child thus far,” she said, the practicality of someone bred to be a consort shining through her words, “and Alexandra is nearly five now. People are beginning to wonder why. And of course it's important that you have more than one heir. What if something should happen to Alexandra? Then what?”_

_“Well I suppose Annie would be in luck,” Mary sighed, rolling her eyes as she referenced her younger sister. “And please don’t talk about something happening to my daughter. She’s young and healthy and nothing is going to happen to her.”_

_“I know it’s unpleasant to think about, but that’s the reality,” her mother pressed._

_“She’s my_ daughter _.”_

_“No, she’s your_ heir _,” her mother countered sternly. “If you want a daughter, you better have another baby.”_

_Mary glared back at her mother, hating the words that she had said. She didn’t want it to be true, didn’t want to live in that world, but she knew her mother had a point. Eventually, Alexandra would stop being a little kid and start being her successor, and Mary knew from centuries of history that monarchs had very difficult relationships with their heirs. How do you fully love someone whose life only starts when you die?_

. - . - .

“Mary?” Antonin prompted, looking at her expectantly.

“It has nothing to do with Sirius, but…” she paused, searching for the right words. “My mother thinks that I need to have another child. Obviously that could only be with Sirius.”

“And do you want another kid?” he asked, concerned.

“I’m not sure - we always planned on having multiple children. That was the expectation, after all,” Mary answered. “But then my father got sick, and then the coronation, and now…”

“And now you’re both involved with other people.”

“Yes.” Mary was quiet for a moment before she continued. “My mother reminded me that a queen can be a mother in the true sense of it with a second child, in a way that she can’t with the first.”

“But you love your daughter,” he said, clearly confused.

“Of course I do! But… it’s different. It’s hard to explain.”

“Is there no way you could have a baby with me?” Antonin asked, his expression filled with desperation to give her everything she wanted. 

“I… don’t think so,” she answered, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked at the disappointment on her lover’s face. “Not this baby, at least. I need at least one more child in line for the throne. After that, maybe...if Sirius were to agree...but then things would get too complicated again, Antonin. I told you this in the beginning. It can never be more than this.”

“If that’s what you want,” he replied, smiling sadly.

“It’s not what I want, but it’s how things are.” Mary reached up to caress his cheek lovingly. “Let’s not think about this anymore, alright? It doesn’t matter right now, Sirius hasn’t shown any interest in being with me in months.”

She snuggled against his chest, feeling his heart beating steadily away. It was reassuring, but also alarming. Mary was becoming far too accustomed to the feel of his body against hers, and soon she might start to feel his absence more than she was ready for.

o . o . o . o . o

Mary was lying in the bed upstairs - not the bed she had once shared with Sirius, that was too far and she refused - with the sheets swirled luxuriously against her bare skin, while Antonin prepared lunch in the kitchen. She was musing idly on the thorough satisfaction she felt, and how happy she was in that moment, when she heard the front door slam.

She bolted upright, her heart racing as she grabbed her dress and pulled it on, forgoing all undergarments in her haste. Antonin would never jeopardize their privacy by creating such a racket, which meant that someone else had arrived. Mary raced down the stairs, bare feet flying on ancient carpeting, until she reached the bottom and nearly collided with her husband.

“Sirius!” she exclaimed in surprise, her heart hammering against her ribs. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he roared, his temper already flaring. “And in my house no less! There is very little that I possess that isn’t yours, but this house… this house is mine!”

“Sirius, what -?” Mary began, even though she knew that it was worthless to feign innocence. They both knew exactly what they were talking about.

“I know!” he shouted. “I know about the affair!”

At that moment, Antonin appeared at the top of the steps that lead down to the kitchen, standing quietly, but imposingly, in the background.

“Look who’s talking,” Mary hissed, irritated by his anger. “I know that you’ve been with other women for months now. Heavens knows how many.”

“Just one,” he replied, his anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. “It’s just Marlene, no one else, I swear.”

“You love her,” Mary stated, his feelings obvious in the way he said her name.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said sincerely. He was sorry for hurting her, sorry for the affair, sorry for falling out of love with her and in love with someone else. 

“It’s okay,” she replied.

An air of forgiveness passed between them. Mary suddenly felt that she understood Sirius, and that the anger she had been harboring toward him for months had dissipated. She understood him, and she knew that his actions had never been malicious. She was in the same boat, and neither of them really could have helped where they ended up.

“We were just about to have lunch,” she said, smiling welcomingly. “Why don’t you join us, there are some things I think we should discuss.”

Sirius squinted at her, not sure what needed discussion but sure that he didn’t like the sound of it. Any conversation about their present situation was bound to get complicated. Nevertheless, he followed her and Antonin down to the kitchen and watching as his wife’s beau hastily set another place using _his_ china and tried not to let it irritate him. 

“So, what is it you want to talk about?” Sirius asked, once they were all seated at the wood table.

“I’m not sure what to do.”

“About what?” he pressed.

“I want another child,” Mary blurted out, not quite as eloquently as she had planned. She could see the surprise on Sirius’ face and it was almost comical. “And we need another heir. I know it’s not ideal, for anyone really, but…”

“So you want me to what - be a stud horse?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Not a horse, no, just yourself,” Mary scoffed.

“Well that bit I can’t help,” he replied salaciously, unable to resist the innuendo.

Mary rolled her eyes at his lewd joke, but she didn’t miss the way Antonin’s grip tightened on his fork.

“Don’t be a prat,” she warned. “I’m being perfectly serious here.”

“What does loverboy think about all this?” Sirius said, leaning his chair back on two legs and interlacing his fingers behind his head.

“It’s not going to be easy, but I didn’t fall in love with her blindly,” Antonin answered, having taken the time to think about their situation since Mary first brought the subject up to him. “I knew exactly who she was, and what the complications could be.”

“Let’s face it: none of us are ever gonna have a happy, normal relationship,” Sirius mused, half amused and half disappointed. “So we have a baby and then what?”

“Then we stay together publicly, but in private we live separate lives,” Mary stated, trying to sound more confident in this plan than she felt. “We’ll be friends - parent as friends, but we’ll each be free to live our lives with the people we love.”

“And what if people find out?” Sirius asked. “Don’t you think it’ll cause a scandal?”

“I think that we can be… openly private about the whole thing?” Mary said thoughtfully, biting her lip as she chose her words. “We don’t exactly try to hide it, but we don’t acknowledge it either. I think it could work if we’re discreet. There’ll be some surprise and a bit of talk at the start, but eventually things will quiet down.”

“You’re sure about this?” Antonin asked, the concern for Mary that was evident in his features softening Sirius’ opinion of him slightly.

“It’s the only way,” she shrugged, far more nonchalant than she really felt. But Antonin knew that when they were alone again she would show him more of how she felt and let him comfort her in all the confusion.

“So, are we all agreed then?” Sirius said. “Because I should probably go talk to Marlene about all of this. I doubt she’d be pleased if she found out about this plan from a pregnancy announcement in the papers.”

“Go, Sirius, we’ll be fine.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” he added, sincerity enveloping his words for a brief moment. “This is going to be much harder for the two of you.”

“I’ll see you at the palace,” Mary said dismissively. “Don’t forget that tomorrow is your turn to drop Alexandra off at school.”

Sirius saluted in acknowledgement before bounding up the stairs, and a minute later they heard the door shut loudly. Mary sagged a little, letting Antonin see her worry.

“Do you think he’s right?” she asked tentatively, leaning against him and resting her head on his shoulder.

“That this will be harder for us?” he clarified. “Well, I don’t think it’ll be a walk in the park to watch you carry another man’s child. And there will be plenty of… restrictions on what we can do until the whole this is over, while Sirius can go back to Marlene at the end of every day. So yeah, I think that until the baby is born, it’s going to be much harder on us.”

Mary swallowed, tears pricking her eyes, desperately wishing she didn’t want this.

“Hey, it’ll only be a few months though,” Antonin reassured her, whispering the words against her skin as he peppered her with kisses. “And you know what, after the baby is here, we get the best part. We get to be together and have a family, and sure Sirius might be involved but we’ll be the principle caregivers. It’ll be _our_ family, all the time.”

Mary smiled, picturing Antonin living in her palace apartment, two little children running around, a normal little family. There was a way for this all to work out, she had to believe it. They might not have normal relationships, but she refused to give up on the idea of being happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> HSW&W Term 13, Asst 2 | Gryffindor | Journalism, Task 1 | Write about someone having an affair  
> IPC #931 - [title] Love and Hate  
> 365 #77 - Discreet  
> August Auction | Day 1, Auction 4 | [setting] Grimmauld Place
> 
> Summer Seasonal Prompts  
> Days of the Year | Ashura | Write about something forbidden  
> National Anti-Boredom Month | 15. Make a collage | Write about reminiscing over something  
> National Ice Cream Month | 7. Neapolitan | Contrast  
> Romance Awareness Month | MarySirius  
> National Indoor Plant Month | 10. Peace Lily | [word] Filter  
> Colours | 6. Rose  
> Flowers | 1. Lady Myrtle | [dialogue] “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”  
> Crystals & Gemstones | 6. Rose Quartz | [scenario] Forgiving someone  
> Tarot Reading | 9. Ten of Cups (reversed) | Write about someone who fears an unhappy home life  
> Build-a-Fairytale | Stage 4: The object of power | 10. A dented locket with an old picture inside | [object] Photograph
> 
> August Writing Club  
> Record Collection | Back to Black: 14. You Know I’m No Good | Write about cheating on your partner  
> Bingo | 6. Saw the plot and needed it for my OTP | Write your OTP/current fave pairing  
> Showtime | 6. It Takes Two | [au] Royalty  
> Amber’s Attic | 4. [trope] Secret relationship  
> Elizabeth’s Empire | 12. [au] Royalty  
> Lizzy’s Loft | 1. Every Inambition | [dialogue] “Half the time I pretend that I’m fine.”  
> Scamander’s Case | 15. [emotion] grief  
> Film Festival | 25. [dialogue] “I didn’t say that.” / “You said it with your eyes.”  
> Marvel Appreciation | Agent Carter | 1. [requirement] A female as the main character/most of the story from her POV  
> TV Spree | 24. [dialogue] “Let’s face it: none of us are ever gonna have a happy, normal relationship.”  
> EnTitled | 4. The One With Phoebe’s Husband | Write about a secret relationship
> 
> WC: 5216


End file.
